Old Wounds
by DWH
Summary: A story based on a very AU prequel scenario, all pertinent info included for you canon nuts. CorSec officer Juliana Antilles has been tracking Han Solo for months, and finds him in the precise last place she'd expect her past to come walking through the


Juliana Antilles sat in a well-worn booth in the far corner of the Mos Eisley Cantina. She was, in fact, approximately well-worn as the upholstery, but she wore it much better. Her hair, once molten crimson, was now streaked with white and pulled back into a braid that hung halfway down her back. The lines on her face revealed years of laughter, tears, and indicated a wisdom that comes with a lifetime of experience. Her violet eyes still sparkled youthfully, however, belying her age. She was, she supposed, a little old to still be chasing smugglers, but she was still good at it. 

It was all she had left to live for, anyway.

Shaking her head, she slowly sipped the ale that had long since become far too warm to be enjoyable. Dwelling on the past would only distract her from her job, and she was not about to let this one away again. Corellian Security had been on Han Solo's tail for a few years now, and he'd proven uncannily difficult to catch. Command had finally put her on the case, hoping that her experience in combination with some older school techniques that the newer recruits weren't taught anymore would be enough to finally catch him. It had been a long, arduous task, but she had finally tracked him here, to a seedy cantina in the armpit of the galaxy.

The very last place she would ever expect her past to come wandering through the door.

Juliana had been casually surveying the area when a robed figure entered. Jedi robes, from the look of it. _Don't see that much anymore,_ she mused. _Though I seem to recall certain Jedi who had a bit of difficulty blending in…_

Anakin glanced up at Obi-Wan. "I think we need some civilian clothing, Master."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Shrugging Anakin grinned mischievously and struck what Obi-Wan referred to as his 'Jedi pose.' "Well, we could just walk up and say, 'you want to give me your clothes…'" He waved his hand and affected an absurdly serene expression.

Obi-Wan could only sigh and say, "A fine use of the Force that would be, my Padawan."

"If it works, Master…"

Padme raised an eyebrow. "Would a Jedi really do that?"

Obi-Wan answered immediately. "No."

Anakin shrugged almost apologetically. "Only when necessary."

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan sounded weary, but he had come to expect such antics out of his young apprentice.

Padme looked skeptical, but she continued anyway. "Well, we could just _buy_ clothes."

Obi-Wan surveyed the surrounding area- the only establishments that seemed to be on this particular space stations were cantinas and casinos, not to mention shops for what a certain friend of his referred to as "happy illegal things." There was not a clothing store in sight, which could prove to be problematic. He did not wish to resort to Anakin's suggestion, but they simply could not remain as they were.

As his eyes swept over the scene, he noticed a tall, red-haired woman with a blaster leaning against a table, sipping her drink and watching them. She seemed to realise that she was, in turn, being watched, and approached confidently, but diffidently. Smiling, she addressed them.

"Well, you three stick out like Wampas at an Ewok bonfire."

The trio could only stare at her for a few seconds. Anakin, in a rather un-Jedi like flash of youthfulness, was trying to look like he wasn't checking her out. She, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide her casual look over Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was completely oblivious, and Padme looked as though she was about ready to smack either Anakin for looking, or the woman for being the subject of the looking.

The corner of the crimson-haired woman's mouth turned up in a small grin. "What business do Jedi have on this side of the galaxy?"

Obi-Wan answered neutrally. "We had engine trouble."

"And I'm guessing you wish to avoid the incoming party?" She was met with silence. "Alright then. You certainly aren't going to succeed looking like that."

Anakin answered somewhat irritably. "We were just discussing that." He turned away to go elsewhere, pulling Padme with him.

The woman smirked. "If your apprentice and his girl care to stay, I might be able to solve your problem."

Anakin and Padme stopped abruptly and turned around, simultaneously protesting that each was not in any way attached to the other. They stopped midway through their protests, however, and simply glared at each other.

The woman shook her head. _Kids. One day they'll admit it for real, but for now they want the other one to admit interest _for_ them._

Obi-Wan, once again oblivious to the subtext, replied, "We would be most grateful. How?"

"I have some clothes that ought to fit you on my ship." She extended her hand. "My name is Juliana Antilles, by the way."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." He returned the handshake. "This is my apprentice, Anakin, and Padme is travelling with us."

Anakin, however, did not look impressed. "You just happen to have clothes?"

"There is no need to be rude, Padawan."

Anakin gestured for Obi-Wan to come aside, leaving Padme to affect an aloof posture in the presence of the older woman. "Master, can you be sure it's not a trap? She _does_ know about the ship chasing us."

"Her instincts are uncanny, but those who chase smugglers are often noted for their gift at picking up small detail."

Anakin shot a look back over at Juliana. "She chases smugglers?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan gestured towards his own collar. "The tri-symbol tucked on the underside of her collar is the insignia of a CorSec Captain."

"CorSec?"

"Corellian Security." Anakin still stared at him blankly, seemingly unconvinced. "I'll explain it to you later. My instincts tell me that we have nothing to fear, and she could be a useful ally."

The two turned back to Juliana, who stood casually with her arms crossed. "So, have you decided you can trust me?"

Obi-Wan bowed graciously. "We would be in your debt for any assistance you could offer us."

Looking through the door, she saw troopers start to pour in. "I'm counting on it. Come on."

Smiling at the memory, Juliana continued her survey of the Cantina's patrons. The robed figure had been followed by a boy who looked like he was fresh off the farm. He'd tried to enter with his 'droid, but the barmaster had put a quick stop to that. She shook her head, hoping the kid wasn't going to try going too far from home for a while, else he was going to learn _real_ quick what the galaxy was really like.

Solo still sat in his booth with his partner, Chewbacca. She'd heard rumours of how the two had ended up being a duo, but had never gotten official word. Something about how Solo had freed the wookiee from slavery while he was still in the Imperial forces, which was how he got into smuggling in the first place. If it was the truth, she imagined she could find it in her heart to persuade CorSec Command to give him a lighter sentence. Illegal though his activities may have been, she saw a noble character buried somewhere beneath the surface. She wasn't sure where, but it was there somewhere.

A commotion at the bar snapped her attention away from Solo's booth. The same farmboy she had noted a few minutes earlier was now being thrown halfway across the room by a rather disgruntled-looking patron, and a blue lightsaber flashed into existence, relieving the patron of his arm. The bearer of the saber looked around cautiously, and doused the blade. Taking a close look at him, Juliana almost dropped her ale. It _couldn't_ be. He looked far older than he should have, though she supposed if he'd spent the last twenty years on this planet, the desert would wear him down faster than just about anything. But the stance, the glint in his eyes, and the way he completely and _utterly_ failed to blend in indicated that it had to be him.

The farmboy rubbed his head. "Ben?" he asked questioningly.

Her eyes went wide, and she had to turn her head away, just in case he noticed her presence. It _was_ Ben Kenobi. She couldn't believe he was actually still using the nickname she had given him all those years ago, he had certainly objected it enough at the time.

"Ben, duck!"

Obi-Wan saw the shrapnel that Juliana was referring to almost too late, but his Jedi reflexes were fast enough to save him. He hit the floor as the debris flew right through the air where his head had just been.

Juliana strode over to him. "You know, you really should pay more attention."

Obi-Wan stood up slowly, looking at her quizzically. "Did you just call me Ben?"

"Well, yeah." She looked at him as if to say, _and your point would be…?_

"That's not my name."

"Of course it isn't. But I had to get your attention, didn't I? Obi-Wan is too long, and 'Obi' or 'Wan' just sounded stupid."

"But why 'Ben?' It's nowhere _close_ to my name!"

"Look, Ben, we've got to get out of here. See that ship over there?"

"My name is not Ben. What about the ship?"

"We're taking it."

Obi-Wan looked at her, jaw dropped. "You can't be serious. That's stealing!"

She shrugged him off. "It's not stealing, it's _unauthorized borrowing._"

That particular adventure had nearly ended in disaster, she remembered. He hadn't been too keen on 'borrowing' the ship, either, but it _had_ been for the greater good. Daring to look back up again, she saw that Chewbacca had moved to the bar, presumably to get a drink. Ben, however, approached him. She had no idea what Ben could possibly be doing, speaking with the partner of a notorious smuggler, but she smiled inwardly at the thought that perhaps a bit of her roguishness had worn off on him. Ben motioned to the farmboy, and they retreated to Solo's booth.

So, the man had taken to forming interesting acquaintances. They made quite an odd collection around that table. She sat back, cupping what was left of her drink close to her chest. This was indeed a situation- she could, quite easily, apprehend Solo today. Take him back to Corellia, throw him in jail for a while, perhaps try to rehabilitate him. The way it was looking, though, Ben wanted to hire him. And while her superiors would never understand the logic, there was still a part of her that knew that Ben Kenobi knew exactly what he was doing. He always had. She tried to resist the memory, but their last meeting flashed before her eyes once more, in all its morbid glory.

Obi-Wan stood amidst the wreckage, staring with hollow eyes. It was hours before Juliana found him standing there.

"Ben, you're alive! We've got to get you out of here…"

"No."

She looked at him skeptically. "No?"

"Anakin. It was… Anakin."

"No, it couldn't have been. Anakin was a great Jedi. He taught the children…."

Obi-Wan looked at her, anguish pouring from his expression. "He gathered the children in one room, our _safe_ room for them… and pulled the roof down on them."

"But… are you sure? Was it truly him?"

"It had to be. I trained him to fight, should I not recognize his trademark moves when I see them?" Bitterness leaked into his voice, and he looked down.

Juliana took his hand. "Anakin or not, you have to leave here. It is no longer safe for you."

"Juliana, you must leave me here."

"But… Ben. I won't leave you here to die. I lov-"

He silenced her. "I know. But my commitment is to the Jedi."

Her eyes filled with sad understanding. "Well, someone has to take you away from this place."

"Juliana…"

"I'll call you a ride. I know a good pilot who will take you wherever you need to go."

"Thank you."

"It's the least I can do."

"Juliana-" he stopped awkwardly. "You know I can never see you again."

"Yeah," she replied sadly. "I know."

The sound of her retreating boots on the loose rubble was the only audible noise.

Once he thought she was out of earshot, Obi-Wan let out a wail of anguish.

Her eyes misted, and tears threatened to brim over. But it would do her no good to cry, not anymore. She thought she had put it behind her. Then again, she never thought she'd see him again, even across a noisy, crowded cantina. The next time she looked up, Ben and the farmboy were beating a hasty retreat. A cursory scan of the room revealed that it was probably the entering stormtroopers they were trying to avoid.

That left Solo and the wookiee alone at their booth, and Juliana came to a decision. Putting her now empty cup down on the table, she walked up to the bar and tipped the barmaster. "Thanks for the brew," she smiled cheerily, and walked out of the establishment.

Ben was nowhere in sight, though she was not sure she wanted him to be, anyway. She sighed. Solo was free to fly for a while longer. If he survived this mission with Kenobi, perhaps she'd track him down after that. Or maybe, just maybe, the old man would reform the scoundrel. She shook her head. She'd kept herself so busy since they'd parted, she hadn't had time to think of it. But it looked like old wounds never really went away.

"Safe travels, Ben," she said softly.


End file.
